Ever After
by Miss Romance-Lover
Summary: Stendan one-shot. What if one small decision, like sending someone a text message at a particular moment, could change a course of events and therefore change how they impact the people involved?


**Wrote this very quickly after it just popped into my head tonight. Genuinely said I wasn't going to do any more of these so why on earth I'm torturing myself - and anyone who reads this - with alternative Stendan outcomes I don't know...**

**Even so, if you do read it I'd love to know if you think it was worth bothering with!**

**x**

Ever After  


You're hopeful, as you leave the club, that your promise of a 'happy ever after' might actually be more than just rubbish you'd spouted to lift your boyfriend's spirits.

You'd never have used the words if you didn't believe it. The cuts and bruises on your face may only be days old, but still you know that the man who gave them to you could never be as evil as his disgusting father.

Everything seems to fit into place now that he's told you. You _get_ him just that little bit more. There'd been a part of you that couldn't fully understand Brendan Brady and how his mind works, but now the fog had cleared.

It didn't make the beatings he'd dealt you in the past alright – didn't serve as an excuse for the fresh one you'd been subjected to two nights ago – and Brendan had acknowledged as much after he'd told you the truth about his childhood.

But he had finally let you in; had stopped shutting you out, and now you were confident that things were going to get better. They had to, because surely after the hell you'd been through together things couldn't possibly get any worse?

So that's why you find yourself phoning Eileen as you prop up the bar at The Dog. You want her to let Brendan see his boys, maybe let them both come to the village for a proper visit. As predicted, she's not particularly impressed or moved by your statement that her ex-husband has 'been through a lot lately'.

Brendan would never have put you up to doing this, and you make sure that Eileen knows that before you give up on her and hang up. You're mildly embarrassed that you ever thought the woman would listen to you, and you can only hope she never bothers to let on that the phone call ever happened.

You buy yourself another beer, and you're not entirely sure which it is that you're trying to numb away with the alcohol: the recent revelation about Seamus Brady, or the entire week's worth of pain and terror. Either way, it's necessary.

Picking up your phone again, you text Brendan to persuade him to come and join you. You'd left him alone to stew on the idea of telling Cheryl the truth, and of course you still think it's something he'll need to do before he can move on. Only, if _you're_ needing a few drinks to recover after what's just been said, he's probably feeling the same way.

It feels silly to drink alone when the man probably needs you now more than ever. You should have just stayed at the club with him.

A minute later you get a reply: _'Get me a whiskey. See ye in five minutes.'_

You smile, but then you're disturbed by a loud clattering of glasses. On the other side of the bar there's a commotion, and you look over expecting to see some idiot who's had one too many that needs guiding out of the door.

Someone _has_ had one too many. It's Seamus.

Darren Osborne is steering him out of the pub, and you can't look way despite the fact that the very sight of the old man makes you sick. There's a look in his eyes that you hate yourself for not seeing for all these weeks. You don't believe for one second that he's sorry for what he's done, and your heart breaks for the little boy Brendan once was – the one who sat in front of him today and seemed to cling onto the apology he'd received like it was a little ray of hope.

You want to go after him, take advantage of the old man's drunken state and _do_ something.

You want to kill him.

Then you remember what you've just told Brendan. _He can't hurt you anymore._ You meant that, and you can't let yourself dish out your own brand of punishment because what he really deserves isn't a quick death by your hands. Instead it's a slow, lonely, painful death that waits for Seamus Brady once the daughter he thinks of as his pride and joy finally knows what an evil excuse for a man he really is.

And so you watch him stumble out into the night, and you force yourself to stay put.

Peace descends over the pub now, but you know it's going to take another drink before you feel as calm as the rest of the room does. To Darren and everyone else in here, Seamus is just a brief disruption to their otherwise blissful evening. To you, and to Brendan, he's the devil.

You have one eye fixed on the door now, waiting for Brendan to walk in, while the other waits for Darren to reach him so he can buy the whiskey.

Only, before any of these things can happen, a screeching of brakes outside scares the hell out of you. You can hear the pressure of tyres on the ground, and you're up on your feet and running outside before anyone else has even moved. Somehow you just know this affects you. It's gut instinct.

There's a taxi outside, and the driver is kneeling down next to his casualty. You edge closer, praying to a god you've never really believed in that the man laying on the ground isn't your Brendan, and then you see. It's _not _him.

It's Seamus.

"Steven!"

You look up, shaking yourself out of your trance, and there he is running towards you, face displaying the same fear you yourself had for him just seconds ago. You move away from the lifeless form of Seamus Brady and fling yourself into Brendan's outstretched arms on the side of the road.

You hear him let out a breath over your shoulder, and you know that he's seen his father. He pulls back to look at you, and there's relief on his face. And you're glad.

There's a voice calling out for him on the other side of the road, and you both turn to look at the same time. Cheryl is hysterical, can barely hold herself up as she shouts Brendan's name.

Then she seems to spot the taxi, the crowd gathering in front of it, and it allows her to pull herself together just enough to make her way over. She doesn't ask what's happened, just turns her tear-soaked face towards the ground and takes in the sight of her father.

"He's dead!" somebody announces amongst the throng of voices, and when Cheryl looks at you and Brendan again, you notice that she doesn't look any worse for the news.

She's wringing her hands together anxiously, and that's when you see that she's holding something. On closer inspection in your numbed-out state, you realise it's a USB stick.

"I know," she says in a small, broken voice, eyes fixed on her big brother's face.

There is no question as to what she's talking about.

No one knows what to say, least of all you. There's an impossible amount of noise going on around the three of you, but all you can concentrate on is the man you love, and how on earth he's going to cope with his sister having discovered everything.

Suddenly Cheryl pulls Brendan to her in a tight embrace. Words can't be spoken right now, but actions always speak louder anyway. After a few minutes, you are brought into the hug too and you cling on for dear life.

Despite all the horror of past events, this will probably be the darkest day the three of you have faced together.

But beyond all the pain and suffering, there is light; and love is there to herald a new beginning.


End file.
